The Triumphant Return of Mr Insensitive

The Triumphant Return of Mr Insensitive
Trigger Warning – This post deals with the Divorce or two couples we know.  While accurate is a bit cold and detached because well I’m kind of an asshole and additionally they really are not part of our lives and I’m not “involved” with with any the parties
Setting the record straight I have very rarely claimed to not be an asshole. Let’s first look at the Month of May. I was home on nights of the 7th and 8th. The Night of the 13th and all day on the 14th and 15th. And then the 27th until now but in that case the Chesty Blonde didn’t get home until the 30th. So now that we’ve established I’m an Asshole with no life let’s pick back up on the Night of the 30th at a Mexican place about a mile from the house.
This post started as a tweet in case it looks familiar. But was worth expanding on
TCB- “X and Y are getting divorced”
Mister Insensitive – “They’re both Assholes, so I can see that.”
So in this case X and Y actually have already been mentioned because it was their “situation” that was the basis of the Bad Marriage Advice post.
TCB “ Doesn’t that bother you? Not even a little bit?”
Mister Insensitive – “Nope” hoping this was the end of this conversation.
Oh look here he comes in a German Luxury Sedan, it is the triumphant return of Mr Insensitive! So while I’m being an uncensored dick let’s be completely honest., I don’t really know either of them on any meaningful level beyond their names, and the fact I liked their dog. I “tolerated” them at a few functions but had absolutely no desire to put up with her constant and obvious need for endless high drama bullshit or his chain smoking, whiskey bottle gulping, drunken frat boy antics. So the fact I could care less that they were having martial issues really is on the same scale as my concern for anything they were doing. Did I mention their one redeeming factor was I like their dog? In fact I like most dogs more than most people so it’s probably not a shock. So as far as I was concerned they should have fun, be who they are, I’ll be at a safe distance.
In others words. Not only was I not in any way emotionally invested in their domestic bliss any more than I am on the latest the mayoral election in Krakow Poland…I could really not have given less of a shit in general. It has no bearing on anything in my selfish little universe. So other than not wishing them any harm I was about as indifferent as possible.
TCB was obviously looking for more from me. I could tell by her expression.
Me – “I saw the moving truck on Saturday…or Sunday. Not sure which. Figured something was going on.”
TCB – “So what do you really think?”
Me – I hope he’s fucking that bar tender she accused him of liking. And maybe six or seven of her slutty friends.”
TCB – “How do you know she has six or seven slutty friends?”
Me “Actually I don’t know for a fact that she has six or seven slutty friends. But as a rule of thumb I figure everyone has six or seven slutty friends. (I proceed to name hers) unless they’re like me and are lucky and have far more.”  Note she is not amused by either my ability to tell her which of her friends are slutty (and their is never the implication that that is in any way a bad thing) or by the fact that according to “normal” standards all of mine are.   Which I think is wonderful because despite being an asshole I think freedom of sexual expression makes the world a better place.
I hit a nerve, so rather than solve what the issue was dipped a chip in Salsa, eyed the queso and a jalapeno , and wondered where my carnitas verde was. The topic shifts to something else. 10 minutes later. She adds out of no where “R&R are getting divorced.” Now I see the real issue. Unlike the couple we had been discussing this is one we’ve known for 15+ years, have ties to one’s family (one is the brother of one of her best friends who happens to be married to my old drummer.), Lil and their kids played together, we went to the beach with our extended families, and countless other things. This time I decided to think before answering.
Then in my usual sensitive fashion “ Hell I’d divorce him just to escape his family”. It was said only half in jest. I love his family, they are wonderful people but I could never function inside that high level closely intertwined type of structure. As an outsider I can come and go from those functions and enjoy it.  Unlike them who have to be at the same place to see the same people at the same time every week, it is just not my style. Fuck I’m lucky if I know what State or Country I’m going to be in let alone having to be at So and So’s house for 6 hours every Sunday.
TCB – “They were in counseling for… a very long time. It’s been really hard on him.”
Now I felt bad but I’m a realist and partnerships often don’t work in romance, life, or business.
“Too much pressure” I offered. The Blonde looked at me, obviously not following.
“He’s putting too much pressure on himself. No one on either side of his family has ever gotten a divorce. So fucking Catholic. All guilt and suffering. People break up all the time. It sounds mutual and as civil as possible. So one moved out and they’ll both move on. The kids are older so no real disruption to their lives and routines. They both work and there is little income disparity so the financial burden isn’t terrible. Assets are pretty basic. It should be fairly clean and easy.”
TCB “ That is really cold.” She paused “ but accurate. It’s scary how your mind works. Everything is some type of transaction or another, a calculation of liabilities and exposure against gains.”
Me – “ You think my mind is scary from out there try living with it for a day” I laughed but wasn’t kidding. I know I’m an asshole, I know all too well what floats through my thoughts, and at even the most inopportune times exactly how calculating it can be. A walking actuary table.  It is an occupational hazard, a byproduct of what I am more or less “made to do”. Lions Hunt prey, I analyze situations and structure deals. Sometimes those terms are cruel though usually they are very fair.  Still ugliness is part of every agreement.  Puts and Takes.
Am I happy either couple is getting divorced? Of course not. In one case there truly is no feelings on the matter, their situation is little more than a passing head line on a news story I won’t read. The other sure it’s sad, Shit happens, and being a cold heartless prick. Maybe it’s for the better. Perhaps both will ultimately be infinitely happier.  Sometimes happily ever after is somewhere different than where the story begins.
And that is probably what upset her, the fact that I know and accept that so easily.  The fact that I didn’t offer platitudes or reassurances of any kind.  At the time it was not intentional I was a lion looking at a wounded gazelle; hungry or not there was another meal.  And like the lion I was doing what nature made me to do, looking at the assets and finding the upside or limiting the damage.  Happy endings are for massages and Disney movies.   Me I like pixies and nymphs…they’re more my speed and very erotic little creatures.  And there my friends you have the triumphant return of Mr Insensitive. Hope fully the next installment will involve more pixies and nymphs fornicating and less divisions of assets and dead gazelles (or relationships).